Ben’s eyes narrowed at Jared, clearly aggravated that he was here, but I intervened to ease Ben’s mind before anything started.
“Don’t worry about it,” I spoke to Ben. “I thought I mentioned it, but I guess not.”
Jared twisted off his cap, tossing it in the trash as he turned to look at me. He didn’t break eye contact as he tipped up the bottle and took a drink.
I knew that look. The one that said he was two seconds from hitting Ben or kissing me. And both would cause a fight.
I looked to Ben, ready to get out of here. “Any interest in cutting out of here early?” I asked. “Go back to my place?”
Ben looked relieved. I hated that my issues were keeping us from having a good time, but at least some space from Jared would mean we could just relax.
Ben nodded and took my hand, leading me off.
“Everywhere you kiss her,” Jared belted out to us from behind—and I noticed bystanders turning to look—“just remember that my tongue was there first.”
I stopped and turned around, glaring at Jared. It wasn’t so bad that people were looking, that a few girls were laughing behind their hands, or that Madoc sucked at hiding his snort.
No, what really pissed me off was being embarrassed in front of Ben. Of Jared talking about me like I was his personal property and trying to deny me a shot at a relationship with someone else.
Just like in high school.
“Does she still like it in the morning?” he taunted. “That’s when she has the most energy.”
I lost my composure, mortified at what he was doing. What the hell?
The bystanders oohed and giggled. Jared’s smirk was vile, and I arched an eyebrow, feeling Ben tense next to me as Jared tried to educate him. Telling him all the ways he knew me.
I squeezed my fists and walked up to Jared slowly.
I let my smile show through my eyes as I whispered. “He knows when I like it, Jared.”
It was a lie, but Jared didn’t know that. His smirk slowly fell, and the rage in his eyes was evident, even though his face appeared calm.
I turned around just in time to see Ben lunge for Jared, and I gasped as Jared reared back and Madoc jumped in to pull Ben away. “You son of a—” Ben was cut off as Madoc spun him around and walked him off, away from the crowd.
Jared pulled me into his arms, Ben forgotten, and wrapped them around my waist. “You want to play?” he charged, biting out every word so only I could hear.
“Challenge accepted, Tatum. This time I don’t want you hurt,” he continued, his breath falling over me as he got in my face, “and I don’t want you small. I just want you. Do you hear me?” He jerked me into his body. “It will be my ring on your finger and my kids in your belly someday.”
I twisted, struggling to free myself as rage kicked in, heating up my face and neck.
He bared his teeth. “Tatum Brandt is my fucking food,” he growled. “They all knew it in high school, and not a damn thing has changed.”
I yanked my body out of his hold and backed away, moving across the patio as he held my eyes. My hands ached to hit him, and I fisted my fingers and steeled my arms, glaring at him.
And he smiled.
“There’s my wildcat,” he commented, clearly seeing the anger that I couldn’t contain. “You want to hit me, don’t you? You want to fight and scream and challenge me back, and you know why?”
I ground my teeth together, thinking about how good it would feel to wipe that smirk off his face.
“Because you care,” he finished. “You still love me, and nothing has changed.”
I shook my head, and before I could give in and be the old Tate who reacted instead of rising above it, proving him right, I left. Slipping through the doors, back through the house, and out the front door.
Why did he still get to me? Why did I still . . .
I couldn’t finish the thought. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes as I dug for my keys, not caring that I was leaving Ben. The day was ruined now, anyway, even if he was crazy enough to still want to spend time with me.
I groaned, feeling my cell phone vibrate against my ass. I was tempted to ignore it, but I dug it out anyway.
She said yes!
I narrowed my eyes, studying my father’s text. And then closed them, feeling the first tears fall as my chest shook.
Not a damn thing has changed.
Everything changes.
Chapter 9
Jared
The clay of the thumbprint charm was as smooth as water as I ground it between my thumb and index finger. The tattered green ribbon had frayed along the edges after years of being handled, twisted, and abused.
But nothing had changed. It was still loved.
The green still held the same vibrant shade as the tree between our windows, and all of the small lines and curves of her tiny fingerprint had survived.
Weathered but still solid. Fragile but unbreakable.
I lifted the beer to my mouth, emptying the bottle and wishing I’d brought another.
Sitting in Madoc’s empty and dark theater room, “Breath” by Breaking Benjamin playing throughout the house, I looked ahead at the black television screen—or screens, actually—seeing my own reflection staring back at me. And for the first time in two years, hating what I saw.
I was that guy again. The one who made her cry in high school. The one who broke her heart and stopped being her friend. The one who was a loser.
I was better than this. Why did I get in her face? Why did I always try to back her into a wall?